


Mic Drop

by hutchabelle



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: Katniss Everdeen doesn’t share the details of her life with many people—that is until forced onto stage at an open mic night by her friend. Recently divorced and still smarting, Peeta Mellark buys her a drink, and they commiserate and debate the fine art of a real mic drop.





	

“Truth or dare.”

 

Katniss groans at her friend and throws a frantic look at Annie in an attempt to catch her eye. “Help me,” she mouths and tilts her head toward Johanna. Annie downs another shot and smiles absently as she runs her fingers through her auburn hair.

 

_Well, she’s drunk. No help there._

 

“Madge,” she begs. “Madge, stop her.”

 

“Relax, Katniss. Take another shot.” Madge’s eyes are as glassy as the those of the other people at the table, and Katniss realizes she’s the only one still sober.

 

“Truth or dare,” Johanna demands in a slurred voice and slams her glass down on the table. Before Katniss can answer, Johanna narrows her eyes and observes, “I think I’m not going to give you a choice. I think,” she sputters, “I think you need to just do this dare with me.”

 

“Oh hell no, Jo. No. What in the world do you have in mind?”

 

“It’s open mic night, right?” At Katniss’ nod, Johanna insists, “Well then, we’re going to open it up.”

 

“It’s not that kind of open mic. Please don’t,” Katniss pleads. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is not the time or the place to give your ex a piece of your mind.”

 

Ignoring her completely, Johanna yells, “Mic drop!” Several people in the bar cheer while Katniss cringes.

 

“No. No, no, no. No mic drop,” she begs as her friend grabs her hand and pulls her up on stage.

 

The crowd roars as Johanna grabs the mic and starts a diatribe against her ex. Katniss attempts to back into the shadows and exit the side of the stage, but it doesn’t work. Johanna grabs her hand and holds her in the spotlight.

 

“The guy was a dick. Do you know what he gave his mom for her birthday?” When the crowd bellows its answer, Johanna answers, “A hug!” A roar of anger rises from the audience at the audacity of the lame gift, and Katniss tries again to leave the dais without anyone noticing or suffering any further humiliation. Unfortunately, Johanna has other ideas.

 

“And you know what the worst part was? His best friend dicked over Katniss here, and she’s been single ever since.” Her face burns as the attention in the crowd shifts to her. “Tell ’em, Kat. Light that ass on fire!”

 

Katniss stands numb as her friend shoves the mic in her hand and stumbles back to her seat. Alone on the stage, Katniss gulps and mumbles, “Um, the dude was always late.”

 

“What a douche!” a guy yells, and Katniss startles that anyone cares, let alone is willing to lend her support against her ex. A spark of adrenaline shoots through her, and she offers another problematic characteristic of her former boyfriend.

 

“You know how the toilet seat thing goes? He told me that I had to deal with him not remembering to put it down because his job was too demanding. And if that wasn’t enough, he said I should practice for when I submitted to my husband.” A rumble of feminine disapproval greets her confession, and she decides to let loose.

 

“Maybe I could have forgiven him if he’d been any good in bed, but he wasn’t. He thought he was the greatest lover ever, but he had a small dick and didn’t know the meaning of foreplay. He was in and out and snoring before I could even tell we were having sex.”

 

Johanna guffaws at Katniss’ words and calls, “You need a good lay, girl! No more bad ones. You tell him.”

 

Her face burns at her friend’s words, and she wonders how in the world she, who is normally reserved and protective of her personal life, has become the human version of no filter. This is not her. The shots her friends fed her earlier must have been stronger than she realized.

 

“It’s too bad I made more money than him,” she blurts. The bar fills with hoots of laughter, but she suddenly realizes she isn’t having much fun. All this tirade has accomplished is making her sound like a moron for staying with a guy who was such a loser.

 

In a desperate attempt to get off the stage with a modicum of personal integrity, Katniss announces, “So if you know a nice guy who isn’t threatened by a financially stable woman and knows how to use whatever he’s been endowed, uh, I mean, blessed with, feel free to send him my way.” She puts the microphone back in the stand and starts to leave the stage but has a second thought.

 

_Oh hell. Why not?_

 

Stopping short, she grabs the mic again and offers a flippant request, “And if you are one of those guys, feel free to send me a shot. Vodka based, please.” She winks into the bright lights before winding her way to the table where her friends sit. She knows she’ll be horrified by herself when she’s sober, but if she’ll admit it to herself, she kind of feels amazing now that she’s gotten her anger off her chest.

 

As she drops into her seat, Johanna shakes her head at her friend. “That wasn’t much of a mic drop, Kat. The idea is that you’re supposed to really let them have it, expose the person’s weaknesses, show how awful that person is, humiliate them. You were way too nice to that dick you used to date.”

 

Madge drawls in her overly refined way, “I don’t know, Jo. She called him out on the size of his cock. Those’re pretty much fighting words for most men.”

 

“Right, but come on. We all know he was much worse than that. He was the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met. And arrogant. And just plain mean sometimes.”

 

“And that’s saying something coming from you,” Katniss teases.

 

“Bite me.” Johanna flips her a middle finger, and they both erupt into laughter.

 

Katniss takes another sip of her drink and realizes she’s reached the bottom. She sets her glass on the table and attempts to block out the guy on stage who’s regaling the bar with tales of the last girl who cheated on him. “Two things. Where the hell are my drinks from all the guys who were cheering? I’m dry. Also, it would have been nice if one of you three had bothered to tell me what a dickhead my ex was before I wasted that much time on him. As awful as he was behind my back, he was fairly nice to my face. Horrible in bed but attentive and tried hard to make me happy for the first few months.”

 

Annie flushes and looks down. She mumbles an apology before wandering off to the bathroom. Katniss knows it won’t be long before her long-time boyfriend Finnick arrives to sweep her off into the night. Katniss doesn’t need or want a guy looking out for her, but she would enjoy some company during the lonely times.

 

Unfortunately, those moments had been coming more and more often in the past several months. Her younger sister and family had moved across the state when Prim’s husband took a promotion for his job. Instead of seeing her sibling a few times a week, now Katniss relies on a few visits a year. She misses her nieces and nephew, and she longs for way to fill the months in between reunions.

 

Madge turns to Katniss and leans in to shout in her ear so she can be heard over the din. “Don’t look now, Kat, but there’s a blond at the bar who’s got his eye on you. You might get some action out of that speech of yours yet.”

 

At Madge’s nod toward the guy in question, Katniss turns casually in her seat and glances over her shoulder in what she hopes is a discrete method of checking out who keeps glancing her way. She scans the row of men, half of which have their backs turned to her, before coming to rest on a thirty-something man with a puzzled look marring his features. A shock of hair flops over his forehead in tousled curls, and he narrows his eyes slightly as she catches his gaze. Before she can indicate any interest in him, he turns his back and motions to the bartender.

 

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, Madge. Looks like he’s not too interested.”

 

A sharp pang of disappointment floods through her. Disheartened, she decides not to try to figure it out. Pushing the unwelcome feelings down, she points at Johanna and suggests, “Maybe you should buy me a drink since you dragged me up on stage.”

 

Her friend winks at her and answers, “Well, I would, but blondie there seems to be stepping up.”

 

Katniss whips her head around and chokes on her saliva at the sight of the unnamed but very attractive man winding his way through the tables and heading toward their table. The closer he gets, the more attractive he becomes. By the time he stands nervously before them, she feels like she’s staring at a Norse god come to life.

 

He clears his throat nervously and half-salutes her with the glass in his hand. “I, uh… I brought you a drink. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I had a friend in college who really loved these, so I thought…”

 

Katniss reaches up to take the glass from his hand and tries to wipe the surprise from her face. She isn’t used to random come-ons from men and certainly not from someone who looks as good as this guy does.

 

“Th-thank you,” she stutters and curses herself internally as her hands shake. Her fingertips graze his, and she startles at the flicker of electricity that floods her body.

 

“You’re welcome. Enjoy,” he returns with a nod and tries to leave.

 

“Where are you going, blondie?” Johanna calls. “Can’t a group of lovely ladies even get a name from the deliverer of drinks?”

 

Katniss kicks her friend under the table but is thrilled when he turns back and tosses a half-grin at the table. “Oh, I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Peeta,” Madge calls over the noise. “The beautiful woman you just bought a drink for is Katniss Everdeen, and the snarky one who called you out is Johanna Mason. I’m Madge Undersee. Care to join us while Katniss enjoys her beverage?”

 

Peeta shifts from foot to foot and glances over his shoulder before a genuine smile breaks across his face. “I’d love to,” he answers and settles into the chair recently vacated by Annie. “Thank you.”

 

“So, what brings you to the bar on a Tuesday night, Peeta? I haven’t seen you up on the stage, and you don’t look too eager to get up there. I’m guessing you’re here either to drink or listen. Which is it?”

 

Katniss groans at Johanna’s audacity, but she can’t deny she wants to know the answer. He doesn’t appear to be there with anyone, and he also doesn’t seem like the type to pick up a different girl every night. Despite his good looks, Katniss senses a vulnerability and kindness in him that intrigues her. He certainly seems different that her last ex.

 

“It was a rough day at work today, and I didn’t feel like cooking. The owner’s a friend of mine, and he hooks me up with a burger when I stop by. It was either here or a microwave dinner by myself in front of the TV when I got home, and I couldn’t quite face that tonight.”

 

From anyone else, Katniss suspects that would sound like a line, but his eyes shine with earnestness that makes them glint a deep shade of blue. He blinks lazily, and she watches his eyelashes tangle, fixated on the way they glint in the low lights. His plump lips make her lick her own with the tip of her tongue, and she has to force herself not to gape at him since he’s only a few feet away.

 

Madge schools her expression into one of sympathy and asks, “Do you live alone? No loving girlfriend away on a business trip or something? No wedding ring, so I doubt you have a wife.”

 

“Madge!” Katniss barks, her face flushed a bright red. “Quit being so nosy.”

 

Peeta chuckles, a musical chortle that rumbles from deep within him and reminds her of her dad’s. She bites her lip at the memory of her father and struggles to remain in the present.

 

“It’s okay, Katniss.” His right eyebrow quirks up at her, and he answers, “No girlfriend and definitely no wife. Divorced. Almost a year now. I’m still recovering from the claw marks.”

 

“I’ll be sure to keep mine retracted,” she says wryly. “I can’t say the same for Jo here.”

 

“If they come out, I promise you’ll like it,” Johanna teases. “So, if you’re so worried about catty females—pun intended, by the way—what made you come over here where Kat is requesting free alcohol as a jilted woman?”

 

Peeta’s bark of laughter brings a reluctant grin to Katniss’ lips. She fights to maintain a stoic exterior, but the corners of her mouth quirk upwards involuntarily.

 

“Let’s just say I understand wanting to nurse the wounds of a really bad relationship. I’ve had my share of them, but the ex-wife… Well, she might be more a snake than a cat. I was incredibly stupid to not see her for what she was years before I finally left.”

 

Katniss nods and takes a sip of the drink he’d bought her and bristles at the tartness. “What is this?” she asked.

 

“Do you hate it? I’m sorry. I can order you something else if you’d like.” His face clouds with disappointed uncertainty at her reaction to his gift.

 

“No! No, I actually love it. What’s in it? It’s fantastic. Just the right balance between sweet and tart. I just wasn’t expecting it,” she assures him.

 

“I knew I’d guessed right,” he crows in triumph and then ticks the ingredients off on his fingers. “It’s vodka, grenadine, and lime juice. I’m not sure what it’s called, but my best friend from college loved these. She was all sweetness, so I used to tease her she drank them to find her sassy. She still couldn’t do it. Every time she tried to mic drop someone, she ended up complimenting them. It was darling.”

 

“She sounds like a special person,” she says, puzzled by the tenderness in his voice.

 

“She was. She died right after we graduated. We’d been friends since we were in diapers, so it sucked when she left. That was the first time I realized Clove—that’s my ex—wasn’t nearly as nice as she’d always pretended to be. She refused to come to the funeral with me, said she didn’t understand why it mattered since Delly had always been so nice and had so many friends that no one would miss her if she didn’t come. Wouldn’t miss Clove, that is. Everyone misses Delly.”

 

He shakes his head and takes a sip of his whiskey. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I should go.” The three women protest together, beseeching him not to feel like he needs to leave, but he insists. “I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should get home and take care of a few things before bed. It was a pleasure to meet all of you. My best wishes, Katniss, at finding someone to help you forget your ex.”

 

He smiles sheepishly and walks away, winding his way through the patrons and heading for the exit. He’s halfway there before Johanna hits Katniss in the arm and orders, “Go after him. Get his number.”

 

“What? No! He would have given it to me if he wanted me to have it,” she protests.

 

“Kat, if you don’t, I will,” Madge threatens. “That man is a catch. He just has a way about him. Trust me, you do not want him to get away.”

 

She glances back and forth between her two friends and wishes desperately that Annie was still there to weigh in on the situation. Annie might have her head in the clouds half the time, but she’s often the most perceptive of the quartet.

 

“Get off your ass and go!” Johanna barks, and Katniss flees from the table in pursuit of Peeta. She bursts from the bar and into the parking lot and the muggy summer air. She casts frantic looks until she spots him at the far end of the aisle.

 

“Peeta!” she shouts, hoping against hope she isn’t making a huge mistake. “Peeta, wait!” He turns to look at her and leans against what she assumes is his car while she crosses the distance between them.

 

When she stands before him, flushed and out of breath, he queries, “What’s going on?”

 

“I, uh, just wanted to thank you for the drink. You didn’t have to get me anything, but I’m really glad you did. Thanks for visiting with us for a while and… Yeah, um, it was nice to meet you.”

 

He smiles at her kindly, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”

 

“Do you think, maybe, we could hang out again? Possibly exchange war stories? I could return the favor next time.” Shocked she’s gotten the words out in a semblance of coherence, she stands rooted to the asphalt and prays he won’t reject her offer. She doesn’t open up to people very often, and the last thing she needs this year is to the rejection of another guy.

 

His gaze flickers over her face from her eyes down to her mouth and back up again before he answers, “I’d like that.”

 

“Really? I mean, yeah?” She cringes at her lack of eloquence and pulls her phone from her pocket. She unlocks it and hands it to him so he can enter his number. In a daze, she watches his tapered fingers punch in the digits and then a quick message.

 

As he hands it back, he says, “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Katniss Everdeen. Thank you again for the company tonight.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs softly. This glorious creature just put his number into her phone.

 

With another sweet, shy smile, he gets into his car and leaves. Stunned, she re-enters the bar and shows her phone to her friends. A few rounds of celebratory shots later and Katniss is finally able to head home for the day. As she sinks onto her mattress that night, she wonders how Peeta enjoyed the rest of his evening at home.

 

****

 

“Heard from the drink fairy yet?”

 

Katniss sneers at her friend and swirls her fries in the puddle of ketchup on her plate. It’s been three days since she’d met Peeta at the bar and exchanged numbers with him. Three days had passed since she put her phone into Peeta’s hand, and not one message had appeared on her phone. It hadn’t rung once, and Katniss wasn’t too happy about it.

 

“No,” she snarls and tears the fries in half with a snap of her teeth. “I haven’t.”

 

“That’s very interesting,” Johanna observes and nudges Madge. “What do you think, Undersee? He looked pretty into her from what I could tell.”

 

“Looked like it to me. Annie? Thoughts?”

 

Annie shrugs and reminds them, “I left before the dreamboat stopped by the table. I didn’t meet him, remember?”

 

“Well, you missed a hottie. Woooooo!”

 

“Shut up, Madge.”

 

“Good lord, let me see your phone, girl. Give it,” she demands when Katniss hesitates. She flips through the message history and shrieks, “Why haven’t you contacted him? He gave you his number!”

 

Katniss glares at her. “I didn’t message him because I already chased him out of the bar. Isn’t it his turn?”

 

“You want to miss out on that delectable piece of—that gorgeous man—because it’s his _turn_?” Johanna scoffs. “I don’t even know you anymore, Everdeen.”

 

“Too late now. I took care of it,” Madge announces and slides the phone across the table to bump against Katniss’ fries. “Feel free to name your firstborn after me.”

 

“What the hell, Madge?” Katniss yelps.

 

“Oh, relax,” she sniffs. “You can yell at me if he doesn’t write back within the hour. I guarantee you he will unless he’s dead or gay.”

 

“What did you send? Why am I friends with any of you people?”

 

“Hey! Annie’s not so bad. At least give her some credit,” Johanna argues.

 

She’s just about to apologize to the redhead when her phone rings. The four women stare at the screen, and Katniss feels her stomach drop when she registers the name. It’s actually him. Finally. Now she’s scared to death to see what provocative thing Madge wrote that got so quick of a response.

 

“That’s a phone call. Katniss, that’s a phone call! Answer him!” Annie urges, and Katniss reaches out with trembling hands.

 

“H-hello?”

 

“Katniss?”

 

“This is she.”

 

“Hey,” he drawls in what she guesses is an attempt to appear nonchalant. “It’s Peeta. Uh, Peeta Mellark. You know, the guy from the bar? I bought you a drink? You just messaged me?”

 

“Hi,” she mumbles and then cringes at her inability to say something more interesting.

 

“I won’t take up too much of your time, but I thought a phone call was more appropriate to take you up on your suggestion.”

 

“My suggestion?” she parrots dumbly.

 

“Katniss, would you like to go out for dinner next Friday? There’s a great place I know. It doesn’t have an open mic, but I thought you might be ready to try something else.”

 

She gapes for a few seconds but manages to get herself together long enough to answer in the affirmative. With a promise to send her more information over the next few days, he says goodbye.

 

She puts the phone down and stares at it for a few seconds until the squeals of her friends pierce her eardrums. Madge shakes her by the shoulders, and each of them sport wide grins on their faces. She nods along with them in agreement over how exciting it is that he’s contacted her; that is until she remembers to check her message history to see what had prompted his call. She winces when she reads it, gulps down her drink, and leaves despite Annie beseeching her to stay. When she’s outside, she deletes what Madge had written.

 

**Call me, and I’ll show you a different kind of mic drop.**

****

 

“Thanks for meeting me tonight,” Peeta says as he slides into the opposite side of the booth and flashes her a gentle smile with a hint of shyness. “Although I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that text from you.”

 

She flushes and takes a sip of her drink. “I’m really sorry about that. My friend wrote it. I wasn’t sure what to say, and... Well, that would not have been my first choice.”

 

The corners of his mouth pull upward. “That’s kind of a relief, actually. Not that I don’t want to see what you have to show me—I mean—shit,” he mumbles under his breath and takes a swig of his beer. “Can we start over? I’m usually better with words.”

 

“That makes one of us,” she teases, “but yes. Hi, Peeta. I’m really glad you asked me out tonight. This is a great place.”

 

“Thanks for meeting me,” he replies. “You look beautiful.”

 

Katniss swirls her drink and watches the ice cubes clink against the sides. “You do too.”

 

She can tell he’s pleased and relieved, and the tension between them melts. For the rest of the evening, he’s as easy to talk to as he was the week prior, and he’s even more articulate and smart and funny than she’d remembered. His blue eyes glint with humor and interest, and she finds herself telling him stories she’s hardly shared with anyone. He listens attentively as she bares her soul, but he doesn’t exploit her vulnerability. She’s struck by his ability to make her feel eloquent and strong as she rambles and struggles to communicate who she is.

 

Peeta’s just motioned for the check when loud voices float over the divider between their booth and the accompanying one. With widened eyes, he catches her gaze and lifts his finger to his lips. She mimics him, and they quiet so they can listen.

 

“You’re always doing this, Cato,” the female complains. “I don’t know why I stick around.”

 

“Yes, you do. I’m the best dick you’ve ever had.”

 

Katniss flinches, and Peeta shakes his head at the guy’s arrogance. He mock-gags, and she wipes her hand over her mouth to hide a grin.

 

“You’re not that good.”

 

“That’s not what you said last night when you were on your hands and knees. In fact, I think you were rearing your ass into me and begging me to fuck you.”

 

“You’re such a dick,” the girl shouts. “A cheap, arrogant fucker.”

 

“Look, bitch, I don’t need your shit. Take care of this, and don’t come groveling for my cock again.”

 

Katniss and Peeta remain frozen as a hulking blonde man slams from the booth, stops, and mimes dropping a microphone before storming from the bar.

 

“Unbelievable,” Katniss hisses. “A complete jerk—and that’s not even what a mic drop is!”

 

Peeta coughs to cover a laugh as the woman from the next table stamps past theirs and makes her way to the door. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at that poor girl. I’m laughing that you’re so offended about an incorrect mic drop.”

 

“It wasn’t just bad. It wasn’t even one at all!” she argues.

 

“I’ll admit it wasn’t nearly as fabulous as yours last weekend, and not remotely as hilarious either.”

 

“Stop making me blush,” she insists and flushes under his admiration. “Mine wasn’t particularly classy either. I babbled and ranted instead of making a point. Mic drops aren’t about spewing anger and vitriol. They’re proving your case and shutting someone down by using irrefutable evidence. It’s about pointing out fact instead of judgmental opinions. I didn’t do a very good job of that last week.”

 

He considers her and leans back. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

 

She shrugs and explains, “I’m no expert, on anything really, but it’s something I’ve observed over the past several years. We’re so eager to attack each other and try to make our points by screaming and huffing instead of debating or discussing. We celebrate strength by lauding physical power and defensiveness but not the quiet depth it takes to let our actions speak for themselves. Being a badass should inspire admiration, not chest-thumping. That’s just my opinion.”

 

“It’s a beautiful one,” he insists. His blue eyes sparkle with something that looks like affection, and her stomach lurches. He hesitates for a few moments, and she wonders what he’s weighing. Finally, he sighs and pulls his credit card from the plastic tray the waitress set on the table. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Katniss. I’d love to invite you home with me, but I think you’re the type of woman who appreciates a man who practices patience and works for your respect. That said, I’d really love to do this again sometime, hopefully soon. If you’re okay with it, that is.”

 

A flutter spreads through her chest, and she drops her head to study her cuticles. Something special has happened between them during their time together, and his willingness to let her move at her own pace is refreshing. She wants to see him again, and she wants to see him often. Swallowing hard, she composes herself before answering.

 

“I’ll allow it.”

 

He stands and offers her his hand. With his palm on her back, he escorts her to her car, opens the door, kisses her sweetly once on the mouth, and bids her goodbye. She floats on a cloud the entire way home and falls asleep with a smile on her face.

 

****

 

“Open mic night again?”

 

Johanna whips around a car in the right lane and yells out the window, “Learn to drive, grandpa!”

 

Madge squeals from the backseat and chides her friend, “Come on, Kat. It’s not like the place holds bad memories for you or anything. You met your hottie there. Bad mic drop and all.”

 

She groans and chuckles. “It was so bad. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not a mic dropper. I don’t put people in their place. I’m not eloquent enough for that.”

 

“I think you are,” Annie says tentatively from the backseat. “You’re one of the strongest women I know.”

 

“No, I’m not,” she snorts and shakes her head.

 

“Yes, you are,” Johanna snaps. “Strong doesn’t always mean bitchy, and I should know.”

 

“You’re strong too, Jo,” Annie insists quietly and turns her face to gaze out the window at the lights.

 

Madge shakes her blonde hair and coos, “Johanna is my hero.”

 

Katniss snorts and covers her mouth with her palm to hide her smirk. Johanna speeds through the intersection, stomps on the brake, and cuts the wheel hard to steer into a parking lot. The four stumble from the car and into the bar before settling at table in the back corner. After providing drink orders to their waitress, Johanna pins Katniss to the wall with a knowing look and pounces.

 

“Enough about me and my endearing personality. Kat, have you banged your man yet?”

 

She chokes and coughs until the waitress reappears with the first round of drinks. She sucks in a mouthful of air and downs the vodka and soda in two gulps.

 

“Can I get another one?” she gasps to the bewildered waitress. “Jo, that was…slightly out of line.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. What’s new?” She tilts her head, and Katniss can’t help staring at the spiky dark hair on her friend’s head—if only to distract her from her friend’s words.

 

Madge watches the exchange with interest and nudges Annie. “I think Katniss has left the building. I also think they haven’t done the nasty yet.”

 

“Oh, good god,” Katniss hisses and realizes her phone is vibrating in her pocket. Desperate to change the subject, she pulls it free and grins when she sees a message from Peeta.

 

**I hope you’re having fun with the girls tonight. I miss you.**

“Is that him?”

 

She nods and taps a message back to him. **I miss you too. “Fun” is a strong word. They’re grilling me about sex.**

He answers almost immediately, and she bursts into laughter.

 

**Two things I’m really good at. Grilling and sex.**

“So, yeah,” Madge smirks. “It’s him.”

 

Katniss lifts her face to her friends and sighs happily, “I think he’s flirting with me.”

 

“I. Am. Shocked.” Annie jokes, and each of them turn to face her.

 

“Did you… Was that _sarcasm_ , Annie?” Johanna teases. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

 

Annie giggles and admits, “Finnick did. Twice today.”

 

The other three howl at their friend’s admission, and Madge giggles, “Me too! I mean, not Finnick, but last night Thom and I got a little freaky.”

 

“You just met him two weeks ago!” Katniss huffs in surprise.

 

“Oh, stop being scandalized.” Johanna barks. “I brought two different guys home this week.”

 

Katniss startles and glances around the table at each of her friends. “Am I really the only celibate one here? Peeta and I just started dating. I’m not really into the rebound thing, anyway.”

 

Madge drains her glass and motions to the waitress for another round before remarking, “You and Peeta have been seeing each other for almost three months. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t think he’s still pining away for his ex-wife who he’s admitted is the female incarnate of the devil. I bet he’s got some latent anger that he’d like to expel into you.”

 

“You did not just say that,” Katniss sputters and jerks as her phone vibrates between her legs where she tucked it. “Hello. This thing’s got a good vibrate setting.”

 

**Uh…I really am good at both. Your lack of answer means you’re either busy or too turned on to type. I’m hoping for the latter.**

 

“Hey, ladies,” Katniss says and chugs her drink. “Is there any good reason I’m here with you all instead of Uber-ing my ass over to my boyfriend’s place and stripping him?”

 

“The bill,” Johanna jokes and then waves her away. “Get the hell out of here. Go ride that man until he breaks. You can pay me back later.”

 

She’s out the door seconds later and waiting impatiently for her ride when she types her answer with quivering hands.

 

**Want some company tonight? Suddenly, I want to know if you can back up your cockiness.**

She’s just slipped into the car when he responds.

 

**My cock isn’t a backup. It’s the main event.**

“Can you drive a little faster?” she asks the driver. “I’d really appreciate it.”

 

“Sure thing, ma’am. Somewhere important to be?”

 

She gulps and sucks in a deep breath. “Not just important. Vital.”

 

****

 

“I don’t know how to go about this,” he admits, his pupils fat with desire and his hands fisted in her dark locks.

 

Katniss swallows and narrows her eyes at him. “What do you mean, you don’t know how to go about this? We take our clothes off and you stick it in me. Unless it’s changed somehow in the past few years or so.”

 

He snorts in response and shakes with laughter. Leaning into her forehead, he brushes a kiss across her temple and admits, “That sounds a lot less complicated than what I was imagining in my head.”

 

“What were you imagining?” she asks, slightly confused and concerned she might be missing something.

 

“I was trying to figure out how to make this special and memorable. I wasn’t exactly planning for this to happen tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this with anyone but my ex-wife. I’m glad to know you aren’t that concerned with the particulars. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to give it my best.” He drops his lips to her neck and nips at the hollow below her ear.

 

She shivers and reaches for the buttons on his dress shirt. “I don’t need a production in the bedroom. I’d rather have enthusiasm.” She glides her fingertips over his chest and grins as he stifles a low moan. “Yeah, kinda like that.”

 

Peeta captures her mouth again, his tongue tracing her bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. He walks her backward down the hallway and into his bedroom before lifting her up so that her legs can wrap around his waist. In seconds, she’s flat on her back with the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress. She arches her neck when his lips trail across her jaw and down to her collarbone. His hips twitch against hers, and she catches her breath at the contact.

 

“Hmm… That was a nice backup. Now I want to see the main event.”

 

He chuckles low in his throat and breathes against her chest. “So impatient. Such a hurry. I like this part.”

 

“I like it too,” she pants as he fondles and caresses her until she trembles beneath him. “This is the best kind of torture.”

 

“I have a condom,” he murmurs as he fumbles with her zipper. She nods, but she can’t catch her breath long enough to answer any other way. Patience gone, they tear at each other’s clothes, mouths seeking in desperation until she lies fully exposed on the bed with the light of the bedside table reflecting off her olive skin.

 

Peeta releases her briefly to shed the rest of his clothing and roll on the condom before easing himself back on top of her. He teases her entrance with his fingers first and listens to her garbled response before barely pushing into her. Katniss hisses at the first feel of him entering her and whimpers when he pulls out.

 

“Keep going,” she begs and cries out when he sheathes himself in her.

 

She rolls her hips backward against the bed and holds his body tightly against hers. She’s exquisitely full with him inside her, the feel of his length stretching her until her body screams for him to retreat. He eases out, and she sobs at the loss of contact. She lifts her hips, seeking him, and howls her relief when he plunges back in again.

 

“Fuck, Katniss,” Peeta groans. “This is…” His jaw flexes, and he rolls them until they lay side by side, facing each other and still joined.

 

She doesn’t know what he was planning to say. She doesn’t care either. She only wants him to keep going, with or without any words to explain how he feels. Her body craves him, the feel of him inside her, the smell of his skin, the way his blue eyes holds her hazy silver ones. She arches her back away from him and drives her hips harder against his.

 

His eyes glaze over with lust, and he raises her leg into the air, providing him deeper access. He bucks into her, deeper than he reached when he was on top, and she wails his name as she sinks her fingernails into his back.

 

Peeta chants her name as he drives her closer and closer to the precipice. His thrusts grow more powerful and slower until she’s scared he’ll split her in two. Just when she isn’t sure she can stretch any further, she shatters around him. He keeps stroking, feeding the fire that’s exploded inside her, until his thrusts become erratic. With a shout, his body jerks to a stop and the tension pours from him and into the condom.

 

His body shakes as he empties himself, and she floats in a mist of relief and contentment. He groans her name as he twitches inside her, his words a mumbled slur before he trails into silence. Her chest heaves as blood sings through her veins. She feels like she’s suspended in the clouds and being serenaded by a chorus of angels.

 

“Holy shit,” she garbles, unable to speak properly.

 

He kisses the crook of her neck and continues holding her leg in the air at the knee. A few more spasms of his hips signal the lingering effects of his climax, and his throaty grunts indicate how satisfied he is. Katniss runs her hands over the ridges of his sweaty, muscular back and tries to slow her breathing with deep gulps. A few minutes later, Peeta collapses onto his back, and she slips from his bed into the bathroom. She needs to relieve herself, but she also requires a few minutes to process what’s just happened.

 

“Oh my damn,” she hisses and scrutinizes her appearance in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes sparkle, and a pleased smirk splits her face. Her skin glows and is covered in a sheen of sweat that makes her shoulders shimmer.

 

That was, without a doubt, the best sex she’d ever had, and it was only their first time. If practice makes perfect, then she’s more than eager to figure out how much better it can get. Her hands twitch as she pictures the way his thighs clenched as he drove into her. At the thought, she experiences a sudden pull to rejoin him in bed and see if round number two is as good as what they’d just done.

 

“Katniss?” he calls. “Everything okay?”

 

“Fine! Everything’s fine.” She washes her hands quickly and walks back into the bedroom.

 

He’s sprawled across his bed, the soft orange top sheet puddled low across his hips and his blonde curls tousled and framing his flushed cheeks. His pupils fatten as he watches her slink toward him. His eyes trail from her breasts to the patch of hair between her legs, and he licks his lips as she draws closer to him.

 

“Jesus,” he murmurs and gapes at her until she sits next to him.

 

“That was definitely a good idea,” she sighs and smiles so widely her face hurts.

 

He shoots her a goofy grin and jokes, “I don’t know if it was a mic drop, but I think there was a boom.”

 

Leaning forward, she kisses him softly with just a brush of her lips against his. He cups her neck and pulls him toward her until she’s splayed against him and their legs tangle together. He strokes his fingers from her hips upward until he squeezes her breast and runs the pad of his thumb against her nipple. She sighs into his mouth, and his tongue strokes hers in time with his finger.

 

“Peeta…more…yes.”

 

She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down on top of her. The skin of his bare chest burns against her torso, and she hikes her right leg over his hip to tug him tighter.

 

“You’re so sexy,” he groans and covers her mouth with his again. Every sweep of his tongue and touch of his lips make her want more.

 

When she rears against him, he moves his hand between her legs and nudges her open. He dips his fingers into the moisture there and rubs a slow, torturous circle against her clit. Her breath hitches, and he smirks against her mouth. Deliberately, he slips his middle finger into her, and she mewls as he strokes her. He pumps in and out as if he had all the time in the world, and her limbs liquefy while tension pools in her gut.

 

Suspended in time, she kisses him while he fucks her with his fingers until she’s sure she’ll lose her mind. She winds tighter and tighter as he strokes and plunders her. He murmurs praise and promises into her ear as she chokes on her moans.

 

“That’s it, honey,” he urges. “Keep coming for me.”

 

She kicks at the mattress as she fills with a lust so intense that her skin burns against his. She twists and grinds against his hand for several more minutes until she snaps and clenches around him. He growls and breaks the kiss to bite along her collarbone. She threads her fingers through his curls and tugs in time with her tremors.

 

“Do you have any more?” she pants and clarifies. “A condom, I mean. You seem ready to go again.”

 

He nods and fumbles in his bedside table until he finds one. When he’s ready, he stretches over her and presses her into the mattress. He settles between her legs, laces his fingers with hers, and pushes into her again.

 

“Amazing,” he groans. “You feel so good, sweetheart.”

 

“Don’t stop. Go faster. No, don’t. Keep doing that. Just keep going forever.”

 

“I won’t stop,” he promises. “Not until you want me to.”

 

“Move in. Quit your job. We can do this every day as many times as we want.”

 

He chuckles and kisses the tip of her nose. “Done. I’ll be back with clothes tomorrow. Except we’re at my house.”

 

“Details aren’t important right now,” she sobs as he thrusts harder.

 

“As far as I’m concerned, the world could end, and I wouldn’t notice anything but what we’re doing,” he grunts.

 

“Oh gawwwwwwd,” she whines as he hits someplace deep inside her. “There! Peeta, yes!”

 

He squeezes her hands and increases his rhythm at her urging. Soon enough, his hips snap against hers, and his bed rocks against the wall as they become frantic and desperate.

 

“Look at me,” he growls, and she locks her gaze to his. His eyes are so dark, she can barely see any blue around the fattened pupils, and it’s mere seconds before he loses focus and bellows her name.

 

“Keep going,” she squeals before following him over the edge.

 

They collapse into a sweaty mass with entangled limbs and gasping breaths. She cuddles closer to him and tucks into the crook of his neck in an attempt to ground herself.

 

“I can’t move,” he wails in mock horror but brushes his lips against her forehead. “I could get used to this.”

 

“What are you? A sex addict?” she teases and squirms when he tickles her side. “I’m serious. This is probably something I should know about you before I get used to you inside me.”

 

“That is sexy as fuck,” he groans and squeezes her breast before kissing the swell. “As for the addict part—only with silver-eyed women who show up at my apartment with promises of enthusiastic boning.”

 

She grins and nips at the warm skin on his neck and says pointedly, “I’m not feeling anything too terribly hard right now. Did I wear you out?”

 

“Give me some time to recover,” he chides through a massive yawn. “I’m happy to demonstrate good technique again in a few hours if you’re still interested.”

 

“I’m always interested in learning how to improve and how good your cock…iness is.”

 

“Good to know,” he murmurs against her lips. He gives her another searing kiss before they both drift into a deep sleep.

 

****

 

They settle into a steady routine over the course of the next few months. Their weeks are marked with a weekly lunch on Thursdays and him sleeping over at her apartment every weekend. On Tuesday evenings, she goes to his place and sleeps in the king sized bed in his bedroom with the soft orange sheets and light blue walls. Sometimes they meet up with friends, but the two crave time alone with each other, especially when it involves exploring each other’s bodies.

 

One night at his place, she wraps herself around him as they sit on Peeta’s navy blue couch. He’s worked his hand inside her bra and pinches her nipple when Katniss bites his left earlobe. At his grunt, she blows lightly into his ear and whispers, “I love your stubble.”

 

“I bet it’d feel better between your legs.”

 

She doesn’t answer, but she presses against him harder and drags his hand to her crotch. He tugs her sweater over her head and presses her backward until she’s sprawled against the arm of the couch. He licks his lips and peels her jeans down her shapely legs. He caresses the insides of her thighs before spreading her open and kissing up her tingling flesh.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps and bucks her hips as his mouth finds purchase on the bundle of nerves that’s on fire under the attention of his tongue. He flattens it against her slit and wiggles it back and forth quickly. She squeezes her eyes closed and bites down on her lower lip so hard she tastes blood. He feasts on her, and she allows him to push her over the edge twice before he joins her.

 

He holds her afterward, and she senses uneasiness in the rigidness of his arms around her. When he’s attempted to speak and stopped himself at least four times, she finally props herself up onto one elbow and surveys him.

 

“What’s going on?” His visceral reaction to her question proves she’s right.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Oh come on, Peeta. You’re about to come out of your skin, and I know it’s not sexual tension. No chance of that anymore.”

 

He grins at her and dips his head to suckle her breast. She sighs as his teeth worry the nipple and clutches his thigh between hers. When he nips at her, she shudders and tugs his hair to get him to stop. He blinks a few times before he can focus through his lustful haze.

 

“Why’d you stop me?” he grumbles and flops onto his back.

 

“Peeta, talk to me.”

 

He releases a sigh so deep that it reverberates through the room, but she refuses to let it go. After several minutes, he finally acquiesces.

 

“My son’s spring concert is next week. I, of course, have to go. That sounds wrong. I mean, I’m going because I both want and need to be there.”

 

She furrows her brow and nods. “You should be there. Are you afraid I’ll be upset or something?”

 

“No, it’s not that.”

 

“Then what? Explain.”

 

“I… I just thought maybe— I want you to come with me.”

 

She shoots up from the cushion and clutches a throw pillow in front of her chest. Panic floods her at the intensity of his expression. This is big, she realizes and she isn’t sure she’s ready for it yet.

 

“But you, I mean we, agreed that I wouldn’t meet your son until… Oh my god,” she wheezes. “Until we’re sure this relationship is really serious.”

 

“I know,” he agrees. “Until we’re sure that we—that we’ll be long-term.”

 

“And you’re… you think that we are…that we should be… Oh, hell. I can’t finish a damn sentence.”

 

He smiles gently at her and lifts his palm to cup her jaw. He rubs his thumb across her cheekbone and murmurs, “I love you, Katniss. You’re it for me. That is, if you’ll have me.”

 

“Are you— Shit, I’m not ready for this, Peeta. I’m not!”

 

“Shh, sweetie. Calm down. I’m not proposing. We’ll have time for all that later—if that’s something you even want. We don’t have to ever if you don’t want to,” he reassures her. “I just love you, so, so much, and you should know that. You should know that I’m all in as far as we’re concerned.”

 

Her heart races with a pounding staccato in her chest, and she wonders if it’s possible to die from apprehension and happiness at the same time. Because she knows without a shadow of a doubt that she loves him too. She hates to admit it. She’s never done feelings well at all, but Peeta’s burrowed his way into her life, her bed, and her heart, and nothing she does now will ever be able to root him out. He’s won her over with his sincerity and kindness, with his gentle nature and fierce loyalty, with his compassion and his earnestness. Peeta Mellark is a good man, the best she’s ever known, and she knows she’ll never find anyone else who makes her feel the same way.

 

“I, uh… What night is the concert?” she asks.

 

He exhales a rush of air and grins so widely she fears his face will split. Relief colors his features, and he grabs her in a bone-crushing hug.

 

“You’ll come with me? You want to meet Teddy?”

 

She smiles at him and bites her lip. His blonde curls are mussed, and his gorgeous blue eyes shine with such unabashed hope that she has to fight the urge to promise him everything he’s ever indicated he wanted.

 

“I want… I want to be a part of your life, and that means meeting your son.”

 

His face glows, and he leans forward to capture her bottom lip between his teeth.

 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs before kissing her senseless. “Agreeable women make me hot.”

 

“Vulnerable men who love their sons turn me on a lot,” she teases and yelps when he flips her over and covers her with his body.

 

“Sounds like we’re a good fit.”

 

She nips at his earlobe and agrees, “Feel free to remind me how well we go to together.”

 

“I know one way we should test to make sure we’re completely compatible.”

 

“Oh, yeah? We’ve tried a lot of ways. What could you possibly want to try now?”

 

“Well,” he drawls, “I think maybe you like it when I do all the work. I kinda want to see you driving the car.”

 

She squirms as his hand dips between her legs and strokes her until she groans, “How do you do this to me?”

 

“How do you do this to _me_?” he asks and wraps her hand around his hardened length. “I swear I haven’t gotten this hard since I was eighteen.”

 

“Inside me now, please, sir. That is delicious.”

 

“Mmmm… I’d be happy to do that, baby. Just climb on.” He flips onto his back and motions for her to mount him.

 

She balks for a moment, unsure and awkward, but the sight of him rigid and jutting into the air is too tempting. He guides her as she straddles him, and they groan in unison as she sinks onto him. Leaning forward and bracing her hands against his chest, she rolls her hips and her eyes flutter closed.

 

“Holy shit,” she breathes as she drags against him. “Perfect fit. Perfect, perfect, perfect.”

 

His hands grip her hips, and she watches his jaw clench as she rides him. His brow furrows as she increases her speed, and his pink swollen lips are parted just enough that she can see the tip of his tongue flicking in rhythm with her strokes. His eyes droop as she pushes back and runs her hands up and down her torso. Her backward thrust changes the angle just enough that she can feel the tip of his cock hitting against her walls. Sparks shoot from where they’re joined through her body, and she thrashes on top of him. He tenses beneath her, and they bellow their release in mingled shouts.

 

She falls forward and nuzzles into his chest. With him still inside her and their sweat-slickened skin fused together, she wraps her arms around his waist, buries her face in his neck, and lets him bring her back from the edge. He loves her, and there’s something beautiful and terrifying in that confession.

 

****

 

“Katniss, can you do me a huge favor? I’m so sorry, but I have an emergency.”

 

She stacks a pile of papers on her desk and speaks into the phone, “Sure, Peeta. I mean, if I can I will.”

 

“I’ve got Teddy this week, but I can’t get home in time to meet him today. I’ve got two more orders I have to get done, and two people called in sick, and Clove won’t answer her phone, and I don’t know what else to do.”

 

His voice, normally so steady, shakes with a hint of panic, and she sighs when her heartstrings tug. Peeta’s one of the most level-headed, kind, compassionate, calm people she’s ever met, so to hear him near panic is enough to spur her to shut down her computer and head for the door.

 

“No problem, hon. I got it,” she assures him. “What time does he get to your place? Do I need to meet him at the bus stop or anything?” He releases a heavy sigh of relief, and a rush of tenderness floods her.

 

“No, he’ll come to the door by himself. He’s got this down, and he let me know last year that he didn’t need Dad to cramp his style in front of his friends.” She snorts at his exasperation. “Kid’s ten going on thirty.”

 

“Out of the mouths of babes, I guess. Don’t worry. I’m heading there now. Take your time at work. Teddy likes me…I think.”

 

“Thanks, Kat,” he gushes. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

 

“I like the sound of that,” she teases and starts her car. “See you later.”

 

When she pulls into his driveway a short time later, she already regrets her quick agreement to watch Peeta’s son. Teddy is a great kid, but she hasn’t spent any time alone with him since she met him a few months prior at his spring concert. He’s a bright kid, rambunctious and eager as most ten-year-old boys tend to be. He’s funny and always offers her a hug when they say goodbye, but she’s still nervous about how he’ll act when his father’s not there as a buffer. Truthfully, she doesn’t know how he really feels about her, but she realizes she’s about to discover that in the new few minutes.

 

She’s in the kitchen making herself a cup of coffee when the door burst open and a much more energetic, smaller version of Peeta bolts into the room. He screeches to a halt and stops dead in his tracks when he sees her.

 

“Where’s my dad?”

 

“Hi, Teddy. Your dad had something come up at work, and he asked me to stay with you until he can get home. Is that okay with you?” She holds her breath until he shrugs.

 

“Sure. Whatever,” he grumbles and slumps into a chair. The cloud of despair hanging over him is so palpable she can almost see it.

 

_Great. The one day Peeta asks me to watch his kid, and he’s in a mood. How do I do this without traumatizing my boyfriend’s son?_

“What’s wrong, bud? You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

 

Teddy scuffs his shoe on the floor and shrugs again. “Reed’s a meanie.”

 

Katniss takes a sip of her coffee to hide her grin before answering. “I see. What did this meanie Reed do to you?”

 

“He pushed Maggie on the playground, and I yelled at him, and he laughed at me.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Teddy. Are you okay?”

 

He puckers his lips and then blurts, “He’s not even sorry! He was mean to my girlfriend, and I stood up for her. Dad says that’s what you do when you really like someone. And Reed didn’t care at _all_!”

 

“That’s not okay, is it?” she offers in sympathy. She’s not sure if she’s helping in any way, but she’s willing to listen as long as he’s ready to share.

 

“No!” Teddy cries in indignation. His ten-year-old outrage is both precious and endearing, and his eyes blaze with his convictions. “He got her dress dirty. It’s her favorite. It’s plaid, and it matches her hair ribbons.”

 

“Hair ribbons, huh? Maggie sounds like she’s quite a catch. You’re a lucky guy.”

 

Teddy nods his head with gusto. “She always wears her hair in two braids. It’s so pretty.”

 

“I bet it is. What color is her hair?” she asks in an attempt to keep him talking.

 

“It’s black and shiny. Kinda like yours. Daddy said Maggie’s hair is pretty like yours.”

 

She flushes and grins behind her mug. “That’s nice of your dad to say.”

 

“Daddy taught me to be nice, but Reed isn’t nice. What if he does it again?” Teddy’s blue eyes shine with frustration, and Katniss considers him for a few seconds before making a decision.

 

“Teddy, I have something really cool to teach you that could help you deal with meanie Reed. It’s called a mic drop. You interested?” He nods enthusiastically, and she puts her mug down and crosses to the refrigerator. “Well, in that case, we’re going to need some ice cream.”

 

****

 

“Goodnight, Teddy. Sleep tight.”

 

Katniss presses her hand to her heart as she watches Peeta kiss his son on the cheek and smooth the curls back from the young boy’s face. The tenderness between father and son almost hurts it’s so adorable. She melts into the shadows and smiles at him when he closes the bedroom door and joins her in the hall.

 

“Thanks again for watching him tonight. You are incredible with him, and he obviously adores you. Whatever you said to him made an impression.”

 

She takes his offered hand and squeezes it. “You’re welcome. I had fun. He needed to talk, and I listened. It was no big deal. Teddy’s a great kid.”

 

“And you’re a great kisser,” he murmurs and draws her close to press his lips against hers. He slants his head and explores her mouth with his tongue until she trembles against him. When he breaks the kiss, he whispers, “Stay tonight. Please, Katniss?”

 

“But Teddy… We agreed I wouldn’t sleep over with him here,” she protests weakly as he kisses her neck.

 

“Teddy knows I love you. Stay,” he insists. “We’ve been together for a while now. I’m in this for the long haul. You and Teddy will be seeing a lot of each other, as far as I’m concerned. Tonight’s the next step. You’ll have to meet my ex soon. She already knows about you, but Teddy will tell her all about today, especially the ice cream before dinner. It’ll drive her crazy.”

 

“Oh… I didn’t— I mean, I wasn’t trying to overstep.”

 

He nudges her nose with his. “You didn’t. You were wonderful. Are wonderful. I don’t want to talk about her. Let’s focus on us. Stay. Please.”

 

She melts into him and moans softly when he presses into her thighs. He’s hard, and she wants him.

 

They’re quiet as they join. He moves over her slowly, and she accepts him inside and welcomes him deeper. He sighs into her mouth, and she breathes him in so deeply her chest aches. His skin burns as it slides over hers. Their fingers intertwine, and they come together, shuddering from and shaken by the intensity of their connection.

 

“This can’t be real,” he murmurs against her hair. “It’s too good. Too perfect. I love you so much.”

 

She cuddles closer to him and listens to the thump of his heart under her ear. “I love you too, Peeta. It’s so real.”

 

****

 

Two weeks later, she trembles as Peeta pulls her from the car, and she wonders why in the world she’s agreed to this. _Oh right_ , she reminds herself, _I’m in love with the man._

 

“It’s okay, Katniss,” he assures her as his deep blue gaze sweeps across her face. “She’s my ex-wife. She’s no longer the person I want. _You’re_ that person.”

 

She nods sharply and allows him to tug her up the sidewalk and to the door where he knocks twice in rapid succession. His taps are firm and sure with no hesitation as he prepares to introduce her, his new girlfriend, to the woman he once pledged to love until he died.

 

_No wonder I’m sick to my stomach._

 

The solid mahogany door swings inward, and she catches the first glimpse of Clove, the mother of Peeta’s child and someone who clearly dislikes Katniss on sight.

 

“Peeta,” she snaps, her voice less than courteous as she surveys her ex-husband before shifting her eyes to Katniss. “Oh, and you’ve brought a friend. That’s a great way to make things more difficult for our son. You’re an amazing role model.”

 

Peeta tenses next to her, and Katniss squeezes his forearm gently in an attempt to calm him. She’s positive he doesn’t want to give Clove the satisfaction of losing his temper.

 

“Clove, I’d like you to meet someone very special to me. This is Katniss, and, as you know, she and Teddy have already met. They adore each other.”

 

“Oh, yes. I’m sure they do.” Her voice is so snide that Katniss is surprised she doesn’t combust from pure hatred. With a glare that looks like daggers, Clove motions for them to enter her home. Peeta gestures for Katniss to step in before him and follows her lead to perch on the sofa against the far wall. Clove settles in an arm chair to their right and takes a sharp breath.

 

“So, Katniss, how does it feel to have my sloppy seconds?”

 

“Clove!” Peeta barks as Katniss reels from the woman’s vitriol. “How dare you—”

 

“Peeta, sweetheart, it’s fine. I can handle this,” she says firmly with a gentle touch to his hand. He clamps his lips together, but it’s obvious he’s seething. She gulps in a few cleansing breaths and then turns to face her adversary.

 

“Well, that’s an extremely misogynistic way to view relationships, Clove,” Katniss observes as calmly as possible. It won’t do to get in a fight with this woman she realizes, so she might as well outsmart her. She knows a fight is exactly what Clove wants since her words are every bit as sharp as the kitchen knives she can see peeking over the countertop that separates the kitchen from the living room. Peeta shifts in his seat. She’s heard enough about how things ended and the demands she puts on him to know that she’s not so fond of the other woman either. Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, she decides to let loose on his ex-wife—in a very controlled way.

 

“While I understand the term ‘sloppy seconds’ is intended to be an insult, I’m more offended that the term exists at all as I am that you’ve used it in an attempt to upset me. See, Peeta is a human being, not an ice cream sundae, and my relationship with him isn’t the leftovers from the malt shop. When he kisses me, I don’t taste you on his lips—thank god—and I certainly don’t ever worry about him thinking about you when we’re, um, intimate. Trust me. He’s very concentrated on me, and I’m sure his own pleasure, during those times.”

 

Peeta’s mouth hangs open as she speaks, and Clove’s face grows more mottled by the second. If it wasn’t so serious, it would be almost comical to Katniss.

 

“So you’re fine with a reject then? Someone tainted and broken instead of whole like when I met him?” Her maniacal grin twists her mouth into a grimace, but Katniss only feels sympathy. It’s obvious to them both that Clove doesn’t understand their closeness, and that’s most likely because she can’t understand relationships beyond her skewed view.

 

“I’m not dating someone broken or incomplete. I’m dating a wonderful, loving, gentle, compassionate man who’s done nothing but support and help me. If someone rejected him, that says a lot more about that person than it does about Peeta. I’m sorry you think so poorly of yourself that you consider him lesser after having been involved with you, but that’s your issue, not my boyfriend’s.” Katniss shrugs her left shoulder slightly to indicate how little Clove’s criticisms bother her. She sees the attack before it comes.

 

“How would you know, anyway? Your age and not married yet? You must be desperate to get with anyone, and I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that he’s a dad already so that you don’t have to deal with having a kid this late in life.”

 

Peeta lurches forward, but Katniss speaks before he can interrupt. “Yes, I’m sorry my life’s been focused on my career and finding someone who’s so perfectly matched to me that I can be exactly who I am. It’s always amazed me that society is so willing to celebrate marriage and childbirth as the epitome of womanhood when there are so many other venues through which women can be strong. I’m not belittling motherhood in any way, but giving birth isn’t exactly rocket science. Women have been producing children for millions of years. Being a loving parent is about a lot more than conceiving.”

 

“How dare you!” she spits with a voice so low she can barely be heard. “How dare you come into my home and insinuate that you’re better than me.”

 

“Let me be very clear, Clove. I’m not insinuating I’m better than you. I’m defending myself from malicious, completely unprovoked, and incredibly uncalled for attacks on my character.” Katniss’ voice is steely, and Peeta’s face is one of shock mixed with admiration. “You invited me into your home. You immediately attacked me. You started this. I have no reason to fight you because I’m not in competition with you.”

 

Clove’s eyes narrow at her perceived competition, and she blurts, “You already lost. I had him first.”

 

“He’s not a prize,” Katniss barks, her temper finally sparking. “He’s not a trophy to put on a shelf. Peeta is a man—one who loves me and his son, who continues to be as pleasant to you as possible considering the vitriol you spit at him, who is a better person than anyone I’ve ever known. I haven’t lost anything. I’ve found someone I admire and adore. I hope you can find that too someday.”

 

Silence hangs heavy in the room for several seconds before Clove turns slowly to face Peeta and then speaks. “Peeta Mellark, I will not allow this woman to be around my son. How could you introduce them without speaking to me first? Her spitefulness is inappropriate for anyone caring for my child.”

 

“No.”

 

Katniss snaps her head toward Peeta and waits for him to explain, but he doesn’t. Clove must be just as confused because her voice wavers for the first time since her company had arrived.

 

“Wh-what do you mean, no?” she demands. “He’s _my_ son. Not hers.”

 

“He’s _our_ son! _Ours_! I’m his father, and I have every right to introduce him to people who are loving and kind and rational and compassionate,” Peeta yells. His chest heaves as he finally lets loose, and Katniss bites her lip. His passion is intoxicating. “You cheated on me! You made my life a living hell for eight years! I don’t have to kowtow to you anymore. I make my decisions about my life now, and I can and will make decisions about my son’s well-being.”

 

Peeta catches his girlfriend’s gaze, and the two exchange a smile. His lips twerk upward and he murmurs, “Mic drop.”

 

She can’t help herself. She hides her mouth behind her hand and shakes with silent laughter. He finally gets it. He finally understands that mic drops aren’t mean, obnoxious, vindictive put downs of someone else. Mic drops are intelligently argued, rational, eloquent statements that temper emotionally overcharged situations. Peeta’s way with words is one of the things that makes him shine in every way but one. Whenever he’s talked about his ex-wife, his eloquence fades. Today his stand with Clove is dazzling. Today is his triumph.

 

Clove’s mouth gapes and her eyes bug as she processes what her ex-husband has just said to her. When she doesn’t respond after several moments, Peeta shrugs and offers, “I’ll go get Teddy. Katniss, will you be okay here?”

 

She waves his concern away and returns her gaze to Clove whose face is tinged with a pale green.

 

“Are you okay?” she asks, genuinely concerned that Clove is going to be sick.

 

“He’s never talked to me that way before,” she gasps, and Katniss fights hard to keep a self-satisfied smirk off her face. Gloating isn’t an option, but it feels good to know she’s knocked the arrogance off his ex-wife’s face.

 

“I’m not trying to take your place, Clove,” she insists. “I’m sure my relationship with Peeta is unnerving. I can’t imagine how awkward this is for you.”

 

Silence fills the room between them, and she fights to maintain it by keeping her mouth shut. She’s extended an olive branch. It’s up to Clove whether or not she’s going to accept it. Moments later, Teddy rushes down the stairs followed by Peeta.

 

“Bye, Mom! Hi, Katniss! Let’s go, Dad!”

 

Teddy bounds out the door and to the car, and Peeta crosses the room to take Katniss’ hand.

 

“Ready, Katniss?”

 

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This story evolved from a facebook chat with everhutcher, hutchercougarwife, joshs-left-earlobe, and papofglencoe as we discussed the conflation of yelling and insulting with what a mic drop means—proving a point beyond a doubt. After some encouragement, I decided to get Katniss and Peeta’s opinion on the subject, and this is the result.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to promptsinpanem for providing the push to finish it, to anonalece who sent me an encouraging ask months ago after reading a preview, and jennagill for her constant support through numerous rounds of PiP. My biggest debt is to xerxia31, who is an amazing beta and an even better friend. I love you dearly.


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